


Footprints In The Snow

by Cinnamon18



Category: BanG Dream! (Anime), BanG Dream! Girl's Band Party! (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Pastel Palettes (BanG Dream!), Alternate Universe - No Roselia (BanG Dream!), F/F, Gen, Magic, Misgendering, Trans Female Character, and probably five ish years in the future, but slight and unintentional, not in a wizards way more like natural magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 05:34:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,444
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30050670
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cinnamon18/pseuds/Cinnamon18
Summary: Chisato is sick, sick of the hot thoughts running through her mind that keep her from sleep. But up in the mountains, the winds of fate blow in strange ways and conspire to push together three souls who need each other more than they realize.
Relationships: Hikawa Hina & Hikawa Sayo, Hikawa Sayo/Shirasagi Chisato
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18
Collections: Transdori Week 2 (Spring 2021)





	Footprints In The Snow

**Author's Note:**

> Happy transdori 2021 everyone!! I’m glad I was finally able to publish something for chisato and my fav sibs!! The celeste soundtrack is encouraged listening for this fic 😊 depending on your reading speed, starting at 15: reflection should be pretty good!

1.

Someone was knocking on her door. The sound was somewhat hesitant, as though they weren’t quite sure they had found the correct house. A new mail carrier who hadn’t been informed Chisato collected her own packages? She didn’t get many visitors. Chisato sighed and resigned herself to temporarily forgoing the warm companionship of the fire and her mug. She shuffled over to the front door, slippers dragging on the rough wooden floor, and pulled it open before they could knock again.

She was met by a blast of frosted air, and a girl who was decidedly not a mail carrier. She stood several centimeters taller than Chisato with short cropped mint hair and a coat that looked far too thin for the weather. Chisato might’ve mistaken her for a guy, if not for something ineffable about the way she carried herself. Glancing down, Chisato saw sneakers peeking out through the ankle deep snow. Stupid or unlucky, but definitely not a local.

“Can I help you?”

“I… I think I’m lost.”

Chisato looked the shivering girl over once more, and scanned the landscape behind her for some sort of camera crew or other evidence this was a prank for a teenager’s webshow. Seeing no boom mikes lay in wait between the pines, she opened the door to let the stranger in. She would probably freeze to death if Chisato left her out there.

“Come inside, let’s get you warm.”

The girl nodded her thanks and stumbled through the doorway. Chisato reached out an arm to steady her, but she caught herself before needing the assistance. Chisato led her to the living room, where she motioned to the chair she had occupied a moment before.

“Sit. I’ll get you something to drink.” The girl accepted, again with silent thanks. She hunched slightly in the chair, almost retreating within herself. Not one for conversation?

Chisato breezed her way to the kitchen and filled another mug from the battered kettle. The water was still hot enough to make tea, so she plopped a tea bag in to seep and returned to her guest. She handed her the mug and decided to make one more try at conversation.

“What’s your name?”

“Forgive me for my rudeness. I’m... Sayo.” She sounded unsure of herself, averting her eyes. Chisato raised an eyebrow half a degree. 

“Nice to meet you. I’m Chisato. What’re you doing up in the mountains wearing less than a Tokyo Fashion Week model?”

Sayo hesitated again. “I’m sorry, I’m not sure. I… I can’t remember why I’m here.”

“Where did you come from?”

“I don’t know…”

Chisato felt unease pricking at her nape, but she pressed the interrogation.

“Can you tell me anything about yourself?”

Sayo met her gaze again. Frustrated tears shone in her eyes.

“All I can remember is my name. Sayo. I’m Sayo.” 

A well worn amnesia plot line? The same as in the supposedly autobiographical tall tales her grandmother told her in this room, back when she was still small enough to fit on her lap? It was too convenient. The girl’s emotions seemed real though -- if she was acting, she was above Chisato’s level.

“Alright Sayo, you’re going to be fine,” said Chisato, adopting a voice she’d use to placate an injured animal. “It’s getting late, and being out in the cold burns energy. You must be hungry. Let’s get you some dinner.”

“Please, let me help.” Sayo rose with her host. Frankly, Chisato would’ve preferred time alone to make sense of this… situation. But Sayo seemed intent on following her like a loyal hound, and Chisato doubted she’d be able to shake her.

Dinner was… fine. Sayo was perfectly polite, offering to help with both prep and cleanup. Chisato was afraid she would drop one of the now-irreplaceable plates her grandmother left her, but if Sayo’s body was hindered like her mind, her precise dish scrubbing and perfect posture did not betray it. Her guest didn’t make much conversation, but Chisato didn’t mind. She’d grown accustomed to the company of creaking floorboards and whistling wind spurred on by the mountain’s confines.

After dinner, the two retreated back to the living room. Sayo let her eyes roam in the silence. She had been distracted the last time she was in the room, but now that her earlier panic had receded, she had the presence of mind to note the distinctly dated decor. Somehow, it clashed with Chisato’s outfit that could’ve been fresh off a runway model. Well, it was too reserved for that. Perhaps a magazine model, she amended.

“Is this whole place yours?” 

“It was my grandmother’s, and now it’s mine. I have a smaller apartment in Tokyo, too.”

“Tokyo? I’m from Tokyo!” The way Sayo’s grip tightened on the armrest betrayed her excitement. 

“Is that so? Can you remember anything else about your life? A surname? Your job?”

The answer itched at the back of Sayo’s consciousness, irritating her like a splinter dug into her brain. The faint impression of countless hours spent in some sort of cramped room. A hard stool digging into her, and a familiar weight on her thigh. Bursts of color and shapes across her field of vision. Everything was frustratingly indistinct.

“I can’t remember my surname. I think I was a musician of some sort. Studio?” 

“Sayo, let me see your hands.”

Sayo hesitated, confused, but offered them anyway. Chisato’s hands were cool to the touch, with carefully trimmed nails and flawless skin. Unmistakably the hands of someone whose body was a product. Sayo failed to suppress a shiver as Chisato’s hands trailed up and down hers. Chisato studied Sayo’s raised fingers, examining her calluses like a jeweler appraising gems of unknown value brought before her.

“Guitar,” Chisato declared, and immediately Sayo knew she was correct.

“So that’s it. I’m Sayo, a guitarist from Tokyo.” She pondered over the new information for a minute, before a blend of manners and curiosity demanded she turn the question back on Chisato.

“What about you, Chisato?”

“Chisato Shirasagi, at your service. Actress, former musician and idol, among other things.” Sayo got a sense the practiced introduction would’ve been accompanied by a curtsey if they weren’t both seated. Shirasagi… her brow furrowed as she tried to remember. The name was unfamiliar, but Sayo didn’t make a habit of getting to know others in the entertainment world. Another fact about herself that snuck its way back.

“What’s a Tokyo fashion princess doing up here in the mountains?”

Chisato took her time replying, almost meditating on the dancing flames’ hypnotic performance as she composed her thoughts

“I needed a break. The actors after my hand, the reporters in my head, the cameras around every corner. I was suffocating, and I needed to get out.”

“So you ran away.”

“I left. There’s a difference.” It was her choice this way. That difference had to matter.

The fireplace’s crackling filled the space created by their silence.

“We should go to bed. We need to insulate the windows tomorrow, gather wood, and clear the roof off if we can,” said Chisato. 

“All that? What for?” And did someone like her really know how to work with her hands?

“There’s a storm coming, and I don’t want to freeze if the power dies. The storm’s been building all week, bigger than any I’ve lived through. I’ve heard these mountains get a storm like this once in a lifetime.” Chisato trailed off with a grimace. There was that uncomfortable prickling sensation, back at her nape. Her grandmother had been the one to tell her that, too.

Chisato’s nose for danger, honed over the years to pick out the too convenient coincidences that indicated some reporter was maneuvering to misquote her in a clickbait rag, was on the scent of _something_. But she couldn't tell what. It made her nervous that she couldn’t even discern the intent of the forces arrayed against her.

“If you’re so concerned about safety, why not head back to Tokyo?” 

“The pass is snowed over. There’s probably a pair of snowshoes somewhere in the attic if you want to take your chances hiking through a blizzard in that,” said Chisato, casting a derisive glance at Sayo’s thin jacket hanging by the foyer. “I’m staying here where it’s warm.”

“I suppose I don’t have anywhere I need to be. Or if I do, I’m not aware of it.”

Chisato nodded, and stood to make good on her earlier promise of sleeping. She led Sayo upstairs towards her bedroom and lent her a towel and a spare set of pajamas, which were mercifully ordinary for a minor celebrity.

Sayo slipped away to shower. She locked the door behind her and breathed a sigh as her defenses lowered somewhat. Her first real privacy all day. The bathroom’s decor sensibilities were similar to the rest of the house, with polished white tile and brass shower knobs which she turned to their max, sending waves of steam rolling across her face. Chisato seemed confident they would lose power, so she might as well enjoy the hot water and other modern conveniences while they were an option.

Sayo felt that buzzing dissonance return as she stripped off her jeans and folded them with department store accuracy, but she was exhausted from the roller coaster of a day, too much to puzzle over it in depth. She turned her pockets inside out, hoping to find some clues to her former identity. To her surprise, they weren’t empty: a small piece of paper pinwheeled its way to the floor, too quick for her to catch.

Sayo knelt to examine it. A tanzaku? Gently frayed around the edges and with uneven stains on it from a spray of water or… perhaps tears? It must be precious to her. There were words written in thick black pen on the opposite side, and Sayo turned it over to read the wish.

_I wish Sayo would love me again._

As her eyes traced the words, time stalled around her and the cascading water of the shower faded into white noise. Static grew at the edges of Sayo’s vision until all she could read was the single word in the center of the tanzaku.

This was not her wish.

Sister.

She had a sister. 

2.

Sayo returned to Chisato’s bedroom with her hair wrapped in a towel. The shower, while soothing, had not brought her any closer to unraveling the mysteries of her sister. Chisato was already in bed. She looked disarmingly ordinary, sitting under the covers with glasses on, reading some dense tome by lamplight. Sayo could’ve forgotten what an unusual situation she was in.

“I don’t have a spare room, unfortunately. You’ll have to join me.” 

“I can sleep on the couch.” A soft blush dusted Sayo’s face, barely visible in the low light. 

“Suit yourself.” Chisato went back to reading her book.

Sayo hesitated in the doorway for a moment longer. She hadn’t expected Chisato to agree to her proposal so readily. Although the relative privacy of the living room was appealing, the thought of sleeping there felt… isolating. Lonely. Chilling. Chisato was the only other person who understood what she was going through.

“Actually, if there’s space, I’ll join you.” Sayo laid down stiffly next to Chisato, squishing herself closer to the edge than could be reasonably interpreted as anything but bashfulness. Chisato had to suppress a laugh. Her stoic guest had an unexpected cute side.

She extinguished the bedside lamp and full dark took the room, save for the weak moonlight that fought its way past the gathering storm clouds on the horizon. 

“Chisato, I have a sister.”

Chisato pulled the thick duvet over them.

“You have interesting taste in pillow talk.”

“I hurt her. I think I miss her.”

“Sometimes we hurt those we love. Especially family.”

“Do you have siblings, Chisato?”

“Mmhm. A younger sister.”

“Do you love her?” Chisato couldn’t make out Sayo’s expression, but the waver in her voice was unmistakable.

“Of course.”

A moment passed, then another. She expected more questions, but all she could hear were the gusts through steadfast pines that adorned the landscape. Just when Chisato was sure Sayo had drifted off, she spoke again.

“Thank you. I feel,” Sayo paused, “strangely honest around you. I don’t usually share this much about myself.”

“Strange words from a woman who can’t remember a thing about herself. But anything for my favorite amnesiac.” Chisato smiled to herself, and rolled over in a clear signal of her intent to sleep.

3.

Two days later, Sayo and Chisato were finishing their preparations for the storm. The gathering clouds, formerly constrained to ominous towers growing at the edge of the horizon, announced their presence with thick flakes that drifted to the ground in ever growing drifts. The wind was picking up, and Chisato forecasted that the storm would break before nightfall.

Details about her life had begun to return to Sayo in frustrating fits and starts. She lived alone in Tokyo and worked as a studio musician, bouncing between jobs she secured more through technical ability and persistence than personal charm. She had several short stints with bands as a permanent guitarist, but none had worked out.

To her immense frustration, some higher power had seen it fit to restore her memory of a potted plant that would surely be dead by the time she made it back to her apartment. She couldn’t recall anything notable about it, or even visualize the space around it. Just one stupid potted plant, with unreasonably detailed parallel venations running the length of each leaf. 

Memories of Hina, too, had come back to her. She could picture Hina’s bright smile, framed by mint hair the same shade as, but much longer than, hers. Their relationship was strained, although Sayo couldn’t recall why. It had been years since they’d seen each other.

Sayo missed her.

No amount of thinking about her sister would help Sayo gather kindling, though. The heavy snow tugged at her borrowed boots as she foraged, opposing her every step. Although still green, Chisato said the branches would be better than nothing if the fire died and they had to restart it from embers. They had already stocked the house from her wood pile, which was located unreasonably far away. Another one of her late grandmother’s design sensibilities designed to protect the carefully composed lawn, which Sayo had been assured existed under the foot of snow.

“What’s that in the snow?” asked Chisato. Sayo followed her gesture to a smallish teal blue lump that stood out against the trichromatic landscape of snow, bark, and pine needles. At first she could’ve mistaken it for a robin egg, but as she got closer she realized it appeared to be a… a charm? 

As Sayo knelt to examine it, she was struck by a burst of deja vu. The warning came a moment too late, and another memory overcame her. She was much younger. There was a warm summer breeze. A balcony and a telescope with Hina. A small blue plastic cat, obtained with carefully saved allowance. A gift to her sister.

“Look! There’re footprints under that tree.” Chisato’s exclamation dragged her out of her trance. Sayo pocketed the charm but resolved to figure out exactly what it meant to her later.

The footprints were at least a day old, and heavily obscured by the falling snow. In most places they were wiped out entirely -- it was only under the densest tree cover that they were distinguishable. They seemed to follow the trail higher up the mountain.

“Chisato. I need to follow these tracks.”

She glanced at the sky before nodding. “Let’s make it fast. We can come back for the wood.”

Following the trail was slower than she hoped. The footprints grew more indistinct as they progressed, and at times completely obfuscated by downed branches or other tracks from animals that had used the trail since. More than once, Sayo went down a wrong path and lost precious minutes backtracking until she found a stray mark to point her in the correct direction. The snowflakes fell harder and harder as they progressed, completely obscuring the higher portions of the mountain in a staticy white shroud. Finally, they came to a break in the trees. 

Up ahead, there was an alcove carved out of the mountain. The dark stone stood out against the otherwise snow swept landscape. It was far too small to be a proper cave, but large enough to protect its single occupant, hunched against the building wind. Sayo couldn’t make out their features, but she knew there was only one person it could be.

“Sayo?” Hina looked up as her sister approached. Chisato had the grace to hang back towards the entrance to avoid interrupting their reunion.

As her eyes met Hina’s, Sayo was struck by a flood. Thousands of images assaulted her retinas, far more than she could hope to process while standing there. In an instant she could recall a lifetime of days spent together, of days spent growing, caring, fighting, hurting. Of days spent apart.

All the injuries seemed so inconsequential against her love.

Sayo spoke first. “I’m… I’m sorry Hina. I’m sorry I had to forget our fights to realize I care about you. For driving you away every time you showed me your love.” Hina was shocked.

“No, I’m the one who pushed you away. Every time I tried to chase you and hold you closer, it only forced us further apart. I’m sorry!”

“We were both lonely without each other,” said Sayo, wistful. Why had she wasted so much time?

“Can we go back to being normal siblings? Normal twins?”

“It will take me time... but... I want to try.” Riding the surge of affection cresting over her, Sayo leaned in and pressed the lightest of kisses to Hina’s forehead. Embarrassment overtook her immediately, and she ducked to hide her blush, discovering a pressing need to fiddle with her backpack’s straps. She pretended not to notice Hina’s awestruck expression.

“Let’s get you home. Why didn’t you go looking for help?”

“I was watching you this whole time! I knew you’d come for me. The mountain told me you would.” Hina patted the rough stone wall like it was a dependable canine. “It said my big sister would find me. I think it was a little confused there,” she giggled gently. A quintessentially Hina explanation, it explained nothing. She would press her for a proper explanation later, but there was something else she had to address now.

“Hina.” Sayo paused and shuffled uncomfortably. Her habit of keeping her feelings to herself was hard to shake, least of all when Hina was involved. But being honest with Chisato had been freeing, so she resolved to press on.

“The last few days, I haven’t been able to remember anything about myself. I forgot I was supposed to be a boy. That I am a boy? It doesn’t matter.” Lord, she was stumbling over her words. “The point is, I assumed I was a girl. It felt like the most natural thing in the world.”

“Does that mean you’re my big sister now?” Hina didn’t even hesitate. Sayo wanted to laugh and cry at the same time. 

“I think I always have been.”

“Sayo!! I love you!!” Hina got about half a step towards Sayo before her leg buckled under her weight and sent her sprawling to the stone floor.

“Hina!” Sayo leapt forward to break her fall, but she was too slow.

“I’m okay! Just skinned my palm!” Hina held up her hand, now bleeding gently, as though that would assuage Sayo’s concern. Chisato joined them and produced a bandage from her first aid kit to warp Hina’s hand.

“Hina’s too weak to make it back. Can we wait for a break in the storm?”

Chisato shook her head. “We’ll freeze. The weather’s changing for the worst.”

Sayo looked towards the entrance, and realized Chisato was right. The wind had grown noticeably louder, and the sunlight was weak, as though it were evening rather than noon.

“Hina, if I help you, can you walk?”

“I think so!” Hina draped her arm over Sayo’s shoulder, and rested her weight on the taller girl. The pair took a hesitant step forward, and another, and another. It was working!

“You could stand to lay off the sweets.” Sayo muttered without any bite. Then they reached the entrance.

If the heavens were angry before, they were furious now. The icy gale, no longer restrained by the alcove’s walls, exploded in full force. Hail rained down, slashing burning lines across Sayo’s exposed face. The strength of the onslaught forced her to stop in place and gasp. How had the weather turned this quickly? She considered ignoring Chisato and turning back to wait out the storm in the cave, but Hina’s labored breathing ruled that idea out. Despite her sister’s best attempts to put up a strong front, her exhaustion was obvious.

Chisato took the lead, somehow keeping their party on the trail despite the abysmal visibility. Her flashlight pushed back the darkness a mere few meters before being swallowed in the torrent of snow, and not a single star was visible through the thick clouds to guide them on their way.

Hina tried to say something, but the howling wind snatched her words away. 

“What’s that Hina?” Sayo had to shout to be heard. Hina cupped her free hand over Sayo’s ear.

“We’ll be okay. The mountain has our backs!”

Sayo couldn’t muster the energy to respond. She ignored the exhaustion clawing at her limbs, forced away its whispers in her ear inviting her to lay down and rest and let the snow build up over her, because didn’t that sound nice? She just had to follow Chisato, one foot in front of the other. It was a rhythm, really. Sayo could do rhythm. If she could do literally nothing else on this earth, she could do rhythm.

Sayo couldn’t say how long she maintained that pace, one foot in front of the other, following right behind Chisato’s swaying ponytail. Every burning gasp for air and throbbing of her muscles was a victory, one foot closer to safety. Hina kept pace, but the whole time Sayo worried that she would collapse again.

And then as suddenly as the storm had come upon them, they were free of treeline. Chisato cursed when she saw her darkened house. They stumbled the last few meters to the doorway, and Chisato forced the door open. She flicked a light switch on and off, confirming that the power was dead. 

“What should we do? Should I help Hina up to your room?”

“Take her to the couch for now. I’d rather we be by the fire. Staying warm is our priority. I have spare blankets I’ll bring down.”

Sayo dragged her sister to the couch, tracking snow behind her. She managed to get Hina to drink some water, but she refused to eat anything, complaining that she just wanted to rest. After much prodding, pleading, and persuasion from Sayo and Chisato she accepted a few spoonfuls of soup, but then went back to stubborn refusal.

So there Hina remained, curled up on the couch like a cat sunning herself in the warmth of the fireplace. Only her head poked out of the thick comforter. She looked oddly peaceful given the immense trial she’d been through.

“Go ahead and sleep, Sayo. I’ll keep an eye on things.”

“I’m fine. I want to make sure Hina is okay.”

“Sayo. You’re exhausted. Sleep.” Sayo wanted to argue further, but Chisato was right. Her muscles were still trembling; hauling her sister down a mountain was no minor task. 

And so Sayo laid down on the couch next to Hina. At least this way, Hina could wake her if she needed something. A moment after she surrendered to her turncoat body’s urges and closed her eyes fatigue overcame her, and she passed into uneasy sleep.

4.

Upon waking, the first thing Sayo noticed was that she was alive. It was a precondition for noticing anything, but a nice thing to notice nonetheless. She ran through a quick mental checklist: Her limbs were all still attached, frostbite hadn’t taken any fingers or toes, and she couldn’t see a single window shattered by a wind-cast arboreal spear. They had survived!

Fear shocked her like a bucket of cold water as she remembered Hina’s condition, but there was no cause for alarm. Her sister dozed peacefully next to her, a small string of drool trailing from her mouth. Every few moments she would twitch or adjust, full of energy even in sleep.

“We didn’t freeze to death and the house is intact. We’re snowed in, but all things considered better than I expected,” said Chisato in a mirror of Sayo’s thoughts. She had to sit up to see Chisato, who was already awake and feeding the smoldering embers in the fireplace. It was as she said: outside, the snowbank had grown so tall it blocked half the living room windows. They could probably escape in an emergency, but Sayo doubted the roads would be passable any time soon.

“I’m sorry I can’t assist you in tending the fire.” Sayo sheepishly held up her left hand, which was clasped tightly in Hina’s unbandaged hand. She must’ve taken hold of Sayo while they were asleep, because she had _certainly_ not fallen asleep this way. Chisato raised her eyebrows in an _“oh my”_ , but declined to comment.

“Did finding your sister restore your memories?” Chisato stabbed a burnt out log with her wrought iron poker, casting up a shower of sparks. Sayo’s eyes were stung by the subsequent burst of smoke. She shook her head.

“Not all of them. I can remember much of my relationship with Hina. All of it, perhaps? But the rest are still returning.”

“Including the ones about your… gender?” asked Chisato. Sayo broke eye contact, but did not reply.

“I see. Take your time, Sayo. Rediscovering yourself is a process,” said Chisato. “I’ll get food started.”

“Chisato… I have a favor to ask first. Could we stay with you a bit longer? I know your place isn’t built for three, and that you prefer privacy. But it might be hard for us to get home with the roads buried under snow.”

Chisato looked back and forth between the two sisters, one’s best attempt at indifference betrayed by her anticipatory lean and the other still asleep with her limbs askew, and realized she could answer with perfect honesty:

“I would love the company.”


End file.
